


Saturday

by mrhiddles



Series: These Aren't Dark Times [High School Verse] [6]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Human, Blood and Gore, First Kiss, M/M, POV Thor (Marvel), Protective Thor (Marvel), Trans Character, Violence, author note in second chapter, ftm Loki, transgender loki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-31
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-19 06:12:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15504054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrhiddles/pseuds/mrhiddles
Summary: He whispers brother, like it’s a test, and he wants it to be that.





	1. Reality

Days pass and Thor doesn’t receive any more requests from Loki that require a locked door or bring about blushing cheeks.

Loki doesn’t say much to Thor at all, choosing instead to talk with Frigga, baking and doing his homework at the kitchen table. He brings his homework home a lot now, where before he used to just finish it in class or during breaks, using his time after school to hang out with Thor.

It hurts, a small stinging pain that Thor swallows down. He knows it’s because Loki feels embarrassed, must be. Has to be.

Loki avoids his eyes for another week straight before things even out close to normal again. But something inside him tells Thor it’s not the same. Not like before.

\--

Loki is in line to get lunch while he and Sif are already sitting at their usual table. It’s getting close to Summer, and most kids are outside these days, wanting to sit and eat on the grass, so the cafeteria is pleasantly underwhelming.

Sif isn’t eating. Thor’s pretended not to notice since he realized.

“Is something wrong with you two?”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he lies.

Sif rolls her eyes at him. “Thor. You and Loki fight, sure, but he’s not usually this quiet. He’s been weird the past few weeks.”

They both glance over to where Loki inches ahead in line, glaring at the boy in front of him.

“He uh…He asked me for help with something and I think he’s just been self-conscious since then. But that was only last week.”

Sif’s eyebrows drag together quickly as she shakes her head. “He’s a fucking idiot.” Thor sighs and she shrugs in apology. “You know what I mean. But there hasn’t been anything else? You don’t think there’s something worse?”

Thor’s stomach drops. “You don’t think he’s fighting again?”

She shakes her head. “He would tell me. You’d _know_ if he was.”

Thor nods. “I would, yeah. I noticed something was a little off, but honestly only since last week or so. I don’t know. Maybe it’s the summer blues?”

“Summer blues before summer even starts? It’s three weeks out.”

“It’ll be our last year though. Maybe he’s sad it’s our last year,” Thor tries. But even before Sif levels him with a disbelieving scoff he knows that’s not true. Loki got good grades, but he never liked school much. “Maybe he’s down about graduating soon and leaving you behind?”

Sif sighs this time, her eyes closing. “Maybe. I doubt it. He knows I’m a ten-minute drive away, I’ll still be over all the time like I am now.”

Thor sets down his fork just as Loki heads over, and Sif valiantly shakes her bad mood away. She elbows him in the gut as he sits and steals some of his fries despite not having touched her own.

Thor forces a smile to his face and laughs in all the right places.

\--

That night during dinner Frigga suggests the two of them head to the park that weekend. Get some sun, enjoy the day, don’t stress about school so much.

They agree, and Thor finds it’s a welcome change of pace, looking forward to a day out together, as brothers.

But they don’t get that far.

They get to the park, sure. It’s lush and green and hot in that pleasant, sticky summer day kind of way. Thor sweats and can see how Loki’s fingers itch to peel his own tank top over his head. He knows he won’t, and Thor bites his tongue—wanting to tell his brother that no one will notice or care, that _he_ was there and would protect Loki, that nothing in the world could come between the two of them, or how much he loved him.

It’s a thick thought in the back of his throat, so he swallows it down. Decides instead to watch Loki as he walks, sweating through his shirt, smelling like himself and the tangy trees all around them. Loki sneezes and curses the season for allergies.

It’s Saturday.

\--

They find a shady patch of dying grass just off the path surrounded by tall trees. It’s too hot to be walking around without supplies, something they dumbly forgot to think of. But Loki just pulls him into the shade and shimmies back against the trunk of the tree like he’s been here before. Maybe he has.

“Have any cigarettes?” Loki asks him.

“You better be joking,” Thor warns him as he sits.

“Get a sense of humor, Jesus,” Loki huffs. He closes his eyes and tilts his head back.

After a few long, too hot moments, Thor breathes out slow. “You doing okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

Thor looks down at his hands. He’s sweating because it’s hot, not because he’s nervous, not that at all.

“Sif is worried,” Thor tells him honestly.

Loki makes a sound at that. “Why?”

“You’ve been off, she says.”

“And why is that cause to worry?”

Thor doesn’t answer long enough that Loki peeks at him before finally turning his head Thor’s way.

“You’re worried too, right?” Loki asks him. “Because that’s what you do?”

“You’re my brother, Loki,” Thor tells him. It comes out much graver than he intended but it’s true, has been for a long time. Loki blinks at him and his mouth twitches into something Thor wants to name a smile.

“You don’t watch the news much,” Loki says.

“Some,” Thor replies, confused.

Loki swallows, Thor can see the bob of his throat. Then he folds his legs carefully beneath himself as he shifts to sit facing him.

“Laufey is out of jail. Only served—”

“Months! That’s bullshit, Loki! It’s heinous,” Thor half shouts at him, not caring when he sees his own spit flying from his mouth. Loki looks at him wearily.

“It is.”

Thor sits up and takes Loki’s hands, gripping them tight. “Why didn’t you tell me when you knew?”

Something dark flashes in Loki’s eyes and then it’s gone in an instant. Thor doesn’t know what to name it.

“I was still thinking of what to do,” he finally whispers.

“You’ll stay with us!” Thor insists on a growl. “With _me_!”

Loki blinks and his gaze focuses on Thor’s this time. It’s intense and Thor feels something snap deep in his belly and then it’s Loki’s mouth on his, kissing him. Thor squeezes Loki’s hands tighter, so hard he wonders if he’ll break his fingers, doesn’t want to. He lets go to cradle Loki’s neck instead, bringing him closer, wanting that delicate lurching at the center of him to never stop. Loki kisses back and it’s everything murky and suspect in his dreams come to life. He whispers _brother_ , like it’s a test, and he wants it to be that. Loki responds by crawling in his lap. It’s quick, too quick, not lasting how Thor wants it to. So he draws Loki’s searching mouth away by a firm grasp of his dark hair.

“Fuck off with your _this is a mistake_ speech, we’re so past that right now,” Loki sneers at him and Thor laughs, loud and happy and holds Loki close.

“Not a mistake, Loki. Never a mistake.”

Loki still seems unsure, but his arms come up tentatively around Thor’s shoulders and he nods, finding whatever answer he needs just then in Thor’s eyes.

He crawls off Thor’s lap and starts to speak but then everything gives way to chaos.

\--

They’re taken by surprise. Thor will dub it an ambush later, trying to be funny, trying to make Loki laugh when he knows the two of them will be alright in a physical sense, but mentally—mentally was something he hadn’t immediately thought about.

But right now, it was still Saturday. And on Saturdays, Thor didn’t usually go to the park.

They didn’t know Brant went to the park to get high with his goon squad—because really, that’s all he’d thought they were. Idiots bandied together by mutual moronic tendencies and cruel leanings.

The metal bat comes out of nowhere, interrupting what Loki told him as he crawled out of his lap. (The doctor said that was normal, to forget for a while after a concussion.) The metal bat comes out of nowhere and cracks him so soundly in the forehead his vision snaps to black and only blearily bleeds back at the edges once he’s on the ground. He doesn’t remember making a sound. The bark at the back of his head had felt soft in contrast.

But Loki is screaming. Loki is screaming profanities and threats and he’s struggling—Thor can hear that, can hear him fighting—and being dragged away by three average, mean-looking boys their age. Then all he can see is Brant and his bat swimming above him.

Brant sneers, ugly punch-gapped teeth and frantic eyes, and then another _crack_ sends him spiraling.

Thor fights. And it’s the hardest fight he’s ever fought in his seventeen years of living. He can’t see anything except ink-like spatters of blue sky and trees sometimes…other times nothing at all or just white, endless white. And then he snaps back to the moment again, remembers, hears his brother somewhere far away—or is it close—and he’s back to gritting his teeth and fighting against the immovable weight holding him down. He can’t move. There’s something burning and sticky in his eyes, something stinging he can’t blink away. He can’t _move_. But he’s Thor and Loki stopped screaming some time ago and he fights, it’s what he _does_ because Loki’s always had to. He fights and he fights and he—

They tell him later he’d crawled twelve feet before passing out.

It’s Saturday night and Loki is in the hospital. They’re _both_ in the hospital.

He should have crawled farther.

Should have fought harder.


	2. Nightmare

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *cracks knuckles*
> 
> I listened to this on repeat while writing this chapter: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p8Lc3Q436-8
> 
> *TW: No major character death*** However! Description of traumatic head injury resulting from blunt force trauma (from Brant's bat) and some (partially researched) medical terminology in a hospital setting. A subconjunctival hemorrhage is when your sclera fills up with blood. Description of attempted sexual assault (note attempted! I still stand by what I've said before, I will not write a full-on rape) and subsequent violence. Graphic violence. A lot of blood.*
> 
> One final installment is left after this and I'm aiming for it to be a long one!

Loki’s hips are so small in his hands. His thighs are tense in the shorts he wears, and Thor can feel the quick sweep of Loki’s pelvis tight against his before there’s fingers searching against his cheeks, pulling his face close. Thor wonders if Loki can feel him hard in his pants, worries it’s too much, that he’ll be scared away. But Loki keeps kissing him, soft breaths ragged against his lips, and it’s lovely and everything and all he wants to feel for the rest of his days.

Then there’s pain and blood in his eyes and screaming and Thor wakes up alone, a paneled ceiling the only thing he can see above him. He hurts all over, and when he reaches up to feel his face, the first thing he finds is a bandage wrapped tight around the right side of his head, covering his eye.

There’s a monitor off to the side somewhere, the faint beeping marking his heart rate as he tries and fails to sit up. It races quick for a moment before he finally manages it. The room is dark with the curtains drawn against the two windows. He squints to see the clock on the far wall but can’t focus. He hopes it’s only been a few hours, that Loki is close.

A nurse passes the opening to his room, curiously lacking a door—why didn’t his room have a door?—and he calls out in something close to a grunt.

The nurse stops herself and turns back into the room, stepping quietly until she sees Thor sitting up. “You look like you’re feeling a little better. I don’t know how you’re awake right now, with all they gave you.”

He keeps squinting. She has dark hair and that’s about all he can make out. “Where’s Loki?”

She walks to his side and starts checking machines and tubes all around him. For the first time, Thor realizes he’s hooked to an IV and he feels faint. He’s never liked needles.

“How’s your head feeling?” she asks him, reaching for him.

Thor glares and tries to move out of her reach. “Where’s my brother?”

The nurse sighs and then there’s a small _click_ , and a light. He blinks and his vision swims.

“You’ve sustained serious trauma to the right side of your face, along with a concussion. You have an orbital break and a hairline skull fracture.” Another _click_ and the light is gone. “Your left eye seems to be doing well, pupil dilation is good.” She tilts his head this way and that and the pain seems magnetized to his right eye. “Your swelling will go down within forty-eight hours and allow you to focus more accurately, but the bruising will take longer, as well as the subconjunctival hemorrhage in your remaining left eye. You—”

Thor blinks and his head throbs. “Remaining? What—what do you mean?”

The nurse is quiet a moment and he can see the shape of her look back into the hall before pressing a button on his bed. “The damage to your right eye was too great to salvage. You had to be brought in to surgery and they removed the eye, not wanting to risk infection. An infection could have caused blindness in both eyes. You really should ask the doctor these things.”

There’s a rush of air and then voices and Thor closes his eyes—no his _eye_ , his one eye—and pushes down the realization that the source of his pain is something much, much worse than just a headache and swelling. His jaw hurts when he tries to speak, so he stays quiet, wanting to save the effort for when it counted most. He can hear his mom somewhere beside him, hands gentle on his arm. Can hear the voices of who he assumes is the doctor or surgeon, maybe both, talking to the nurse as she relays good news— _His left eye is dilating normally with light, but his vision is still blurry. That should go away within a day. No allergic reactions, awake earlier than expected, strength is up—_

“Mom?” he asks, not opening his eye.

“Yes, love?” she says, voice raw with tears. “What do you need?”

“Where’s Loki?”

Frigga hums and squeezes his hand. “Loki’s just down the hall. You’ll see him soon.”

“Is he safe?”

She presses the back of her hand to his neck, brushing his jaw with one finger. “They’re taking good care of him.”

Thor doesn’t miss the way she says it. Not really an answer at all.

The doctor asks him to open his left eye then, and he goes along with whatever they want from him. The faster he finishes with them, the sooner he can see Loki.

\--

Frigga tells him it’s nine at night when they’re done. They’d been in the park for an hour before the police were called, almost immediately after it happened. She won’t tell him what happened to Loki.

“That’s for him to say,” she keeps saying to him when he asks and it’s driving him insane, not knowing.

After a walking test, they allow him to be led to Loki’s room down the hall. Frigga helps him with an arm as they walk, past several police officers who watch as he goes. He ignores them and stops in the doorway when they finally get to Loki’s room. Frigga makes sure he’s steady where he is and goes to Loki’s bedside. Loki, who’s awake and blinking at Thor like he can’t make sense of the sight of him.

Then Frigga crouches over him and hugs him tight and Loki lets her. Loki’s arms come up to her shoulders and allows Frigga to bury his head in her embrace. She whispers something to him and Thor hears him suck in a breath before they lean away from each other, Loki wiping at his eyes.

Frigga nods to something he says and then she’s back at Thor’s side. Loki is watching them as he shuffles to his side and sits in the too-hard chair there. Frigga is wonderful for letting them be just then, stepping out of the room.

“Loki.”

“Your head looks like a grape,” Loki tells him, voice soft.

Thor smiles, his eyes wet. “I haven’t seen myself yet.”

“Good. Don’t. You’re disgusting.”

Thor looks down and shakes his head, not wanting Loki to see him cry. But he’s just so _relieved_ that Loki is alive. A hand inches into his view and he watches as Loki grabs his hand.

“You’re both blaming yourselves,” Loki whispers. “It’s not either of your faults.”

Thor chokes down a sob and leans forward on his bed, bringing Loki’s hand to his face, just holding him. “I should have done more. I should have stopped them.”

Loki goes rigid. “So, they told you what happened?”

Thor jerks his head, no. “No one will. What happened? Please?”

“You first,” Loki says, and the words come out too high, shaky.

“Brant hit me with the bat. And I lost my eye. But that’s nothing. _Nothing_ , Loki. Please. I can’t stand not knowing what happened. What I could have stopped.”

Loki pulls his hand away, forcing Thor to meet his eyes. Thor squints and takes in what he looks like, really looks like for the first time since this afternoon, what he couldn’t pinpoint from the doorway.

Loki’s face is bruised, and his lip is swollen. There’s a line of stitches across his neck in the midst of an iodine stain and Thor’s stomach rolls in a sick lurch imagining what could have caused it. His arms are bruised too, but his knuckles are the worst, and Thor can’t immediately place where he’s seen it before.

And Loki doesn’t look sad or afraid or ashamed. He’s furious and it makes his heart race.

“They held me down and Brant pulled his dick out. When he got on top of me, before he could really do what he wanted, I bit his neck and held on. He had to—to tear himself away. They let me go after that and one of them—” Loki’s eyes glaze over. “One of them had a knife, or a nail, something sharp. They cut me when I went for him. I got it away from the small one and went after Brant. He was shocked, I think. I don’t think he knew what was happening right away. He was too quiet for all that blood.”

Thor can’t breathe.

“What did you do, Loki?”

Loki blinks and focuses those furious green eyes on him again. The wildness softens then and it’s just the two of them in that room and Thor thinks about how good it was to kiss his brother. How good it is to hear he made Brant bleed.

“Kiss me first,” Loki whispers, and there’s pain in his voice.

Thor leans forward and presses his lips to Loki’s. Loki kisses back like he’s shattered, and Thor knows Loki can feel the fresh tears on his cheeks. Loki’s shaking fingers come up to rub at the side of his face, his hair. He tugs his earlobe once and Thor laughs into his mouth, and he knows in a quiet corner of his heart that he’ll never love someone so much as he does Loki.

“I killed him, Thor,” Loki murmurs between kisses, into the safety of shared breath. “I killed him and it felt good. It felt easy. And there’s something wrong with me for that, but I don’t care. Because I can kiss you still and it’s because I didn’t let them kill me first.”

Thor keeps kissing him because it’s the truth, and he knows that. And he agrees and isn’t that the most terrifying thing of it all? Loki whispers death into his mouth and Thor thinks, _good_.

“If you’d done it, Thor,” Loki tells him. “I’d have never forgiven you. It was mine to take.”

Thor nods and keeps kissing and kissing and kissing him because he loves Loki and he’ll forgive him anything in the world.

“I have to kill him,” Loki weeps and he snatches Thor away hard enough it hurts.

But you already did, Thor thinks.

Loki looks ready to break, whether himself or Thor and Thor wonders if Loki is worried he’ll be rejected now, after all they’ve been through.

“It was your kill to make,” he tells Loki, not leaving any room for doubt.

They’re only seventeen, but he feels it under his skin, in his marrow. It’s something ancient and primal but he _knows_ he agrees it was Loki’s life or Loki’s death, and he doesn’t need to put to voice what he would choose every time.

“My kill,” Loki breathes. “Yes.”

Loki leans back on his pillow, exhausted all at once. Thor breathes out slow, trying to calm himself.

“There’s video. The small one, Isaiah or whatever his name is. He filmed it.” Loki is eyeing him carefully. “I need you to watch it.”

“I’ll wait until you—”

“No,” Loki snaps. “No. I need you to watch it on your own. Make your own decision about me. Need you to see what I did.”

Thor just nods, not wanting to argue with Loki in the state they were both in. “How did they get the film so fast?”

“He’s cooperating with police apparently. Turned himself in and snitched on the others. He’ll probably get no time, if any of them do.” He frowns. “I might. But that’s hardly here or there at the moment.”

Thor fights the way he wants to yell in denial about the possibility, but he pushes the urge down. “Have you watched it?”

Loki doesn’t look at him. “I have.”

“Okay. Okay, I’ll watch it.” Loki nods, mouth a firm line.

Loki turns onto his side after a while and plays with Thor’s hand, lifting his fingers every which way before squeezing them all and merely resting his cheek against them. “You’re going to look like a pirate.”

“You think?” Thor asks, them, “You know for an ambush, you did pretty good.”

Loki’s face doesn’t change but the air feels lighter somehow.

“I wonder what it looks like on the inside,” Loki says, sounding far away.

“Probably bloody at the moment. I’ll need a patch.”

“You shouldn’t wear one. You shouldn’t forget,” Loki insists, so sure of what he says.

“I’m glad you did it,” Thor says quickly, unable to keep the words in any longer. “I’m so fucking glad you did it, Loki.”

Loki slides his eyes up to his. He seems to study Thor, unbothered by the statement. “I know.”

\--

Frigga stands by his bed later that night while he watches the video Loki told him about. Two officers brought it to his room and had him sign a paper to see it, but now it’s here, in his hands, and he doesn’t know quite how to prepare himself for watching Loki kill someone.

_Laughter. Bubbling and boyish, clearly marked with inebriation as the one holding the phone—Isaiah—stumbles off a picnic bench lined in cobwebs to shuffle off after his three friends. Brant is at the front with his bat and there’s empty beer bottles lying abandoned in the tall yellow grass._

_“Why you gotta film so much shit, man? What are you, a Youtuber?”_

_“You smell like hash man, what the fuck is your mom gonna say?” one of the boys that isn’t Brant laughs at him. The other turns around and smiles with dirty teeth. “Gonna put that in your blog?” His laugh is close to a bray and Isaiah, clearly drunk but not completely stupid mutters a curse under his breath at the other boy._

_Isaiah trips over something that isn’t on camera and they stop off at a gathering of tall trees. In the distance there’s a shout and they all turn their heads, grinning at each other._

_“Oh shit, you think someone’s fucking?”_

_“You need two people to fuck, retard,” Brant scoffs at them from where he’s scanning the area. “I think it came from over there, want to see if you can film some real fun stuff for once, dumbass?” he laughs and Isaiah sighs, camera centered poorly on Brant’s chipped smile._

_Brant leads the way, legs coming down too hard in that exclusively drunk kind of way with his bat trailing on the ground like a lame staff._

_“Oh shit! Jackpot!”_

_“Holy fuck you see who it is? Fucking nasty!”_

_“That’s the faggot from gym, right? On top of Thor? Oh my god!”_

_“Come on Isaiah, film something useful for once. There’s no way we can miss this!”_

_“Aren’t they brothers?” Isaiah asks, voice wobbly even as he raises his camera to zoom in on—Yes, that is Thor, hands firm on Loki’s hips._

Thor swallows and chances a look at Frigga. She’s rubbing gentle circles on the back of his head, so he keeps watching.

_“Gross,” Brant hisses. “Fuck, I missed my chance with that one, didn’t I?”_

_Brant seems to come back to himself, a moment of clarity dawning on him as he looks down at the bat in his hands. “Follow me.”_

_“Wait,” Isaiah says, voice clearer than it had been moments before._

_“You shut your fucking pussy mouth,” Brant growls at him. He points his bat at Isaiah’s head, somewhere above the camera. The camera is still zoomed in, close on the pocket Brant rummages in before pulling out a screwdriver. “Be brave. Take this.”_

_“No!”_

_Brant rushes towards the camera and there’s a struggle while the screen is black. Finally, Brant leans away and grins nastily before slapping at Isaiah to raise his camera up. “Make sure you do as you’re told.”_

_Isaiah stays still, the camera zooming out again to capture the entire scene ahead. They rush forward and Loki is climbing off Thor—and the boys are heading forward, shaking the tall grass as they go—_

_“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time,” Loki says—_

_And then Brant brings his bat up while Thor is looking up at Loki like he’s the greatest thing in the world to bash Thor’s head back against the tree. He’s dazed, eyes unfocused and hands raising halfway up while Loki has already turned._

_Loki gets in two punches while the camera shakes, before he’s pulled off screen. Thor is stumbling and is pushed by Brant’s foot to collapse on the ground. Flies dart over the two of them, flitting around them before the camera tracks the lazy rise of Brant’s bat for a second time._

_Brant brings the bat down and Thor’s face collapses in a gurgled splash and Isaiah gags, retching on his own shoes as he doubles over._

“Jesus,” Thor mutters to himself and Frigga’s hand goes tight in his hair before forcing herself to gentle her hand and resume the steady circles from before.

_Brant spits somewhere off screen and then he’s grabbing Isaiah to drag him along, violently throwing him forward as they saunter off after Loki. They drag Loki away. It seems to take forever, before finally Brant shouts a slurred order and they grab his arms. Isaiah is still filming as he’s pushed down and forced to hold the screwdriver up close to Loki’s neck._

_Loki’s eyes are wild and he’s flailing._

_The camera is on Loki’s face as his vision snaps up and then down, to where Brant is starting to climb on top of him. His shorts are torn to the side but he doesn’t scream, just goes still._

Thor knows that look. He’s waiting.

_Brant lets his neck get too close and then Loki lunges forward and bites him, holds on for all he’s worth and doesn’t let go, even as the other boys start yelling and shouting and punching at his arms. Even as Isaiah moans a panicked sound and drags the screwdriver across Loki’s neck in the mess of it all and Brant scrambles to get away._

_The camera captures clearly the way blood spurts from Brant’s neck as he finally wrenches himself loose—blood a dark slope against the sky—one hand weakly coming up to clasp at his own throat. He falls back on his knees in the yellow grass. It’s red, very red, dark, and Loki’s face is painted with it. He’s snarling and his shorts are torn half off as he stalks forward to Isaiah—who whimpers and doesn’t move when Loki takes the screwdriver from him._

_Isaiah is sobbing and flips over onto his hands and knees to vomit the rest of his beer into the grass as in the background, Loki and Brant struggle. There’s the sound of fists hitting flesh, again and again and again. Then it goes quiet, the absence of violence stark against the too loud brushing of the tall grass in the wind._

_Then there’s a sound like meat being punctured and then Isaiah is pushing himself up and running away._

_“Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god—” Isaiah is rambling. He comes to a stop somewhere five minutes away and he pulls out his phone to call the police._

The screen goes black, the media player’s options popping back up as if they hadn’t just shown the most dangerous thing Thor’s ever seen.

One of the officers steps forward and takes the laptop from him, closing it and leaving the room.

The other officer watches his partner leave and then steps forward. Thor sees his badge reads _C. Barton_.

“You know,” C. Barton says, lowering his voice. “I see self-defense. And I see a lot of sky and a lot of blood. I also see the only body belonging to the aggressor. Keep that in mind, okay.”

C. Barton tips his hat and offers them a strained smile before leaving them alone.

“Mom?” Frigga’s hand stills. “I’m sorry you had to see…that.”

Thor looks up and sees Frigga looking out the entrance, watching the officers interact with each other as they talk amongst themselves. She gives C. Barton a delicate nod when she catches his eye.

“He shouldn’t have done that,” she comments. “He’s not a lawyer.” She looks down at Thor and smiles softly. “And what are you apologizing for?”

“For…” Thor starts, then stops. He doesn’t know what to say. “For the beginning.”

Frigga brushes his hair to the side and sits, pulling up close to him. She begins braiding his hair. “You do realize I’ve known about Loki since you were both little?”

“Uh.”

“You used to rave for hours. On and on about the beautiful girl down the street. And I would watch that beautiful girl walk by our house when she didn’t need to. And you’d sit at the window like a puppy, waiting. You were like that after she started calling herself Loki too. You just thought you were subtler about it.”

“Um.”

“I took Loki in because I knew he had nowhere else. I knew his parents didn’t deserve such a bright, clever, creative, wonderful kid, not with what they were subjecting him to.” She shakes her head, glaring at nothing. “I know you two were close, or maybe you were wanting to _be_ close. But I knew you two clearly cared for one another. And I know that will always be the case.”

“Mom,” Thor tries again, falling short.

“All I can ask for as your mother is that you find someone in this world you love and who loves you. And you have, and I’m so grateful for that. That you have someone who knows what it takes to defend themselves. And what it takes to love unapologetically, despite what anyone else thinks.”

She takes a steadying breath and continues.

“Loki’s a survivor,” Frigga murmurs. “And so are you. I don’t think you realize that most of the time, what you went through growing up.” She finishes one braid and starts on another. “You’re my brilliant, resilient boy and Loki is mine now too. And I won’t let either of you suffer for the truth of what you feel.”

“He thinks we blame ourselves for what happened,” Thor mutters.

“We can’t do that,” she says, startling him. “Because Loki doesn’t blame us. That boy almost killed you both. He took your eye,” she breathes in sharply, eyes watery. “Now he can’t hurt anyone ever again.”

“Will you tell Loki that?” Thor asks as she draws him into a hug.

“I’ll tell him that every day for as long as he needs to hear it.”

\--

It takes two weeks before Thor is released from the hospital. They keep him an extra six days to monitor his blood pressure. Loki got out on the fourth day and dutifully returns every morning with Frigga to stay most of the day at the hospital with him.

Loki’s doing better. He keeps up with the case easily and relays all the information to Thor as he finds it out.

Thor gets his stitches out and Loki groans and complains the entire time as he watches, mocking how gross it looks. Thor tries not to laugh as his doctor rolls his eyes.

The first time Sif visits and sees it she seems impressed, leaning close and asking, “Can I touch it?”

Isaiah cuts a plea deal and escapes any jail time by giving up the other two boys. They get six months between them and Thor and Loki both know that they’ll likely serve less than that when all is said and done.

Frigga leaves for work and brings them their homework to do in the hospital so Loki doesn’t have to go back to school while his case is still out. It’s just the start of summer vacation when Thor is finally released, and they all go home.

Loki sleeps well at night, but Thor has nightmares. Loki soundlessly climbs into bed with him one night, spooning him and he sleeps better. He doesn’t need to ask Loki to stay, he just _does_ and it’s easier. They haven’t kissed again, but that’s alright. Thor is content to feel the steady rise and fall of his chest against his back as he sleeps. To know that Loki’s _there_.

Then it’s two months later and Loki gets the news they’ve all been waiting to hear. Six months of anger management and a year of community service. Surprisingly thanks to Isaiah’s video.

\--

A year goes quick, is what Thor’s come to learn. A year means a thicker beard and broader shoulders for him, his lacrosse team gearing up for recruiting new players for the following year. Their coach was nice enough to let him finish out the year despite his injury. Fandral stays thoroughly clear of his swing now, which is good for everyone involved. Losing an eye hasn’t proved easy, but he refuses to let people treat him less for it.

Sif pisses off some girl in her grade and gets gum stuck on her scalp for it. Loki cuts her hair at the bleachers to try and fix it during lunch and manages to mess it up so much, that Thor takes a stab at it. She demands the school give her a hat for her misery and she wears beanies for the next five months. “I can’t fucking believe either of you idiots, GOD!”

Loki’s taller, almost eye level with Thor now and his long legs make Thor’s mouth go dry when he catches him slipping out of the shower. His hair is a little longer, dusting his shoulders, curling at the edges and Thor wonders what it would look like even longer.

It’s been a year of kisses and soft, questioning touches when they sleep in the same bed—not as often as Thor would like a few months following the case. Loki always stops Thor before they go too far and he’s okay with that. He’s happy with feeling Loki next to him, could never grow tired of it, the sight of Loki’s hair fanning with each breath, the steady pulse of his long pale neck. They have all the time in the world.

Then Loki turns eighteen a week after his community service is finished and Thor wakes up to see his brother sitting at the edge of his bed in the middle of the night. They hadn’t fallen asleep together that night, so it’s strange, him sitting there all of a sudden. Thor knows something is wrong.

Loki has his backpack on over a jacket and Thor feels nauseous at the sight.

“Where are you going?” he asks.

Loki blinks and looks at him over his shoulder like he didn’t realize he’d ever wake Thor up. He turns and shrugs off his pack before lying beside him.

“Kiss me first,” he whispers.

“No. What’s going on. You’re leaving?” Thor demands.

“I have something I need to do,” is all he says.

It has Thor remembering the first time he saw blood on Loki’s knuckles. He grabs Loki’s neck and keeps him grounded, right where he wants him.

“You don’t have to do anything without me.”

Loki’s mouth wobbles into something odd. “This is not one of those things.”

“What is it, then?” Thor tries again, voice hoarse.

Why do you need to leave me, he silently pleads.

“Kiss me first, Thor,” Loki demands quietly, tears in his eyes. Thor knows that tone, knows there’s no budging it, but it’s worse now. There’s something darker woven between the words, a promise, and Thor doesn’t know what to do about it. Doesn’t know how to fix it.

Thor doesn’t move so Loki does. He presses forward, and the kiss feels like goodbye and Thor _hates_ it.

“I’ll come back, Thor,” Loki whispers.

“When?”

Loki covers Thor’s hand with his own and pulls out of his hold, his dark hair hiding his mouth before he sits up.

“I’ll come back,” he says again, and it sounds like he doesn’t believe it.

He watches Loki get up and walk out his bedroom door. Watches the dark shape of him weave past the banister to the stairs and then nothing. The hall is dark and silent, save for the distant creak of the front door opening and shutting again and then—nothing. The droning silence of midnight and the painful pounding of his own heart, blood rushing in his ears.

Thor sits, immobile. Panics, breathes too fast, moans quiet and short and claws a fist into his sheet. His legs tingle and he shivers again and again, replaying the way his brother loped out and down the stairs like it was the easiest thing. Like he left Thor all the time. Like it was normal.

It wasn’t supposed to happen like this.

Thor doesn’t see Loki again for seven years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> See you in the final installment!


End file.
